Out of these living scars, we are born anew, and borne up upon these ancient winds.

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Cold Cathodes

I have seen the digitalartifacts at the cornersof all the faces inmy dreamsI have seen the wholeof our experienceride, teeth set,into the uncannyvalleyAwake in the night,I have peered atmy own blurredreflection,afraid to put onmy glasses,For fear that, inmy own face, I wouldrecognize the hazeand pixellation ofa computer-generatedimage,For fear that, sometimein the night, whenthe servers are backedup and virtualcomputers are reallocatedto new machines,I have become somethingelse, somethingsynthetic beneath theflicker of my fluorescentlights and cold cathodes.That I am no longeranything more thana facsimile of what Iwas.Patrick M. Tracy7/3/12